Wednesday, April 26, 2017

Tale of A Changeling Child


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Once upon a time, not so long ago, there was an adorable baby girl born to a human family in the United States of America. 

That same day, a girl child was born to a family in the land of The Ageless Ones.  Her father was a misbegotten djinn, kicked out of his society for exceeding his mandate and continually using his power to help humans.  Her mother was an outcast fairy, a bandit of the order of Robinhood.

The djinn and the fairy knew that if the Elder Council of the Ageless Ones learned of the child, they would be required to live within reach of the Elders and raise the child according to their dictates, to ensure she would grow up to be a law-abiding citizen.  Neither wished such a cloistered life for their child, instead longing for her to fully experience Earth in all its glory, growing her own earthly elemental powers.

So they did the only thing they felt they could.  The mother located the human child born the same hour and minute as hers, and taking her own daughter, flew to switch them, intending to leave the human child as a foundling on the steps of Starlak Cathedral.  It was not uncommon for the fairies, elves, gnomes, sylphs, and undines to raise abandoned human children.

A gnomi princess received an orphaned infant that night, but few were ever certain whether it was of human or Ageless lineage... and the princess and her husband refused to discuss its parentage with anyone.  If members of the Council knew, they had been enjoined by the Light they all served to keep the secret, and no word of it ever passed their lips.

The gnomi queen, the crown prince of the djinn, and the fairy king were instructed to keep an eye on the child in the human world.  Their influence was constant, but so subtle that it was untraceable.  Seamlessly they cooperated with her High Guardian to ensure that she stayed safe.

Whether human or Ageless, the child was loved deeply by the human family and grew to full adulthood in the sunny South of her land.  By the time she had reached her early 20s, she possessed many talents, including but not limited to:
~ a kind friendliness that reached out to male and female, young and old, alike, irregardless of the color of their skin or their profession or any other of the dividers many humans felt so necessary to take into account when speaking of their fellow humans
~ a phenomenal talent for art, honed through countless hours of excruciating practice 
~ an attractive, radiantly magnetic aura that made men crazy about her and girls trip over themselves to befriend her
~ a passionate adoration of the stars and moon
~ an author whose deep understanding of the world and people around her blended with a love of the Ageless, human, and Divine to spin fascinating tales that spoke not just to hearts, but to souls
~ a sensitivity that enabled her to be a comfort and a lifeline to numerous mortals
~ an intense love of solitude
~ a loyalty so deep the stars murmured in empathy
~ a light so intense that all who saw it were entranced by it

On this young woman's birthday in the year of the Light two thousand seventeen, the gnomi queen, djinn prince, and fairy king gathered to compare notes.  The girl's High Guardian stopped in for a few minutes to join them in a glass of exquisite wine.  All agreed that the child had grown into someone any parent, whether human or Ageless, could be justly proud of; a tempered vessel of the Eternal Light and one whose life had touched more than they could know, and would continue to touch more each year.

Her name.......


MIRRIAM



Chronicled this twenty-sixth day of April in the year of our Lord two thousand seventeen, by permission of the Light as granted to the narrator via the djinn prince.  

The narrator wishes to add the very happiest of birthday wishes to the woman who will forever be the Yang to her Yin.

Tuesday, April 25, 2017

MBTI: Five Ws and How



MBTI.  The abbreviation gets tossed around a lot, as do the sixteen personality designations resulting from it.  But what IS it, really?  Where did it come from and when? And WHY do people find it so fascinating?

Let's take a look at a few facts and see if we can answer those questions.


WHO

Contrary to some popular misconceptions, it was not two men but two women who developed it:
Katharine Cook Briggs (1875-1968) teacher, author
and her daughter
Isabel Briggs Myers (1897-1980) author, psychoanalyst

Honorary Mention: Carl Jung (1875-1961) psychiatrist, psychoanalyst, psychologist, author


WHAT

Myers-Briggs Type Indicator Test
A series of questions designed to sort a person into one of sixteen personality types.  Initially based on Carl Jung’s book Psychological Types, and then on extensive experience and practice by Isabel Briggs Myers.


WHEN

Longer ago than you think.  Katharine began her studies in 1917, but the test itself was based on extensive research and testing by Isabel, particularly between the years of 1944 and 1962.


WHERE



WHY

As one piece of a framework for better understanding people and relationships, as well as oneself and our strengths and weaknesses.  This in turn allows us to interact better with people, by learning how they're likely to react or behave.  It also teaches us how to capitalize on our strengths and cope with our weaknesses, learning when we need to push ourselves and when we need to give ourselves a break.


HOW

By answering a series of questions, reading the results, and sometimes retaking the test until you’ve confirmed your type is accurate.

An internet test cannot test and sort you the way a human can.  It’s a fact.  Which is why a person sometimes has to retake the test and choose other 'applicable answers’ for some of the questions until the result comes true.


Still have questions?  Ask away and if I can't answer them, I can hopefully direct you to someone/something that can.

Saturday, April 22, 2017

Tigers Don't Have Wings... or Do They?


Driven from their homeland by the vengeance of a bitter king, Bora and her best friend Nari are entranced when the mists part to reveal the beautiful land of Ashiato.  Nari wishes only to be allowed to live her life in peace, away from war and constant power mongering, but Bora disdains peace and sets her sights higher, on the Palace itself.

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It all began with a kdrama.

Late in October 2015, I was watching an episode of the Korean drama Empress Ki, which is set during the time Goryeo (Korea) was under Yuan (Mongolian) overlordship.  Lady Ki was a Korean concubine of the Yuan emperor and rose to become his empress, shortly before the southern Yuan empire dissolved and was replaced by the Ming dynasty.  It’s a fascinating story of palace politics, the machinations of noble families, and the love of kings for a smart woman.  (Also, an awesome Mongolian historian general.)

While watching this episode, I was chatting with my best friend, Katherine Sophia, who had watched the drama while it aired and had strenuously insisted I'd love it.  (She wasn’t wrong.)
Me: GOSH, I do love Chinese court and harem dynamics.
Kate: haha.  Okay, but I adored allll the facing off of everybody.  It was awesome.  And it’s all about power plays and crazy relationships… so it’s fascinating.  XD. We wouldn’t want to live them, but they’re interesting.  SO MUCH POWER.  NOBODY WAS COMPLETELY STUPID OR COMPLETELY HATEFUL.

Me: ‘Xactly.  As much as I think I actually personally could rise to the top and at least stay there for a while, I wouldn’t actually want to try it. 

Kate: You really probably would.  It’d still be pleasanter if you didn’t have to.  Myself on the other hand, would probably be one of the first to die.  XD

Me: Nah, you’d be the best firend that I protected all along while rising to the top.  ............Ohhhhh.  Now I want to write that.

Kate: Aww, okay, now I want to read that.

Me: I’m totally going to do it.

Thus, Wings of the Tiger was born.

From that beginning it became a stress-relieving story I scribbled on from time to time, a scene here, a scene there… and then it sat for a few months and I decided I didn’t just want it to be a 'for fun' story.  I wanted to turn it into a serious project I could throw myself into without losing the stress relief aspects and the fun that originally inspired it.


PINBOARD


Brought before its king, Bora is infuriated when the priests declare them the heirs of the prophecy to unify the land against the coming war.  She is not a pawn, to be used and to walk blindly to her doom.  She will control her own destiny.  Eagerly, she flings herself into the Court politics.  But meddling with prophecies is not a game for mere mortals, as she discovers when her life becomes currency for every competing power and rogue swordsman in the land.


What to expect:
  • harems
  • power plays
  • politics
  • seven elemental clans, including a Phoenix clan that Kate described as ‘the Borgia family of your novel world’
  • animal-themed major and minor clans who spend most of their time building armies and trying to out-politic each other
  • princes and princesses fighting over who will become heir to the king
  • four or five dark lords
  • more power plays
  • alliances
  • elemental powers
  • more politics
  • blood magic
  • warriors
  • dragons
  • even more power plays 
  • unicorns
  • griffins
  • even more politics
  • how far can someone go in pursuit of power for the right reasons without being corrupted
  • every positive trait in a person has a negative potential


Snippet:
Silently everyone awaited Bora’s cry, the final seal to allow their safe passage.

If it’s a scream they wish, they shall have it.  All of the feelings she’d been holding at bay boiled out of her in a shriek that seemed to tear the sails from the mastheads.  Grief over the parents she would never see again, anger at the king who should have protected her father, rage at the events from the moment of being seized by the royal guards until now, annoyance at being forced into exile from everything familiar, and above all sheer, raw fury over being a powerless pawn writhed in the sound emanating from her.

Nari clung to her, refusing to let her pull away, which in her fury she unconsciously strove to do.  Her friend’s touch anchored her as the maelstrom of anger tore through her.

The ship stilled.  Lightning clove the mist, hovering over the surface of the sea for a second that seemed an hour but briefer than a breath.  Sailors stared, frozen in shock.  The captain muttered a sharp oath and spun around to move toward the wheel but the lightning was gone and the ship moving again.  Bora heard him turn to look at her but did not face him.  There was nothing to be said.  She had done as he asked and on her head should not rest any unforeseen result.  The Captain left, walking surely and firmly from memory the length of the enshrouded deck to rejoin the sailor at the wheel.

A low, cackling laugh echoed behind them.  “They asked for it and you gave it, eh?” Bok Soon said.  “Without needing to divine, I predict that whether for good or evil, you bring a powerful fate to this land, Jung Bora.”


Will she bow before the forces of Time and the Universe, or will she discover that she has set herself a task as impossible as finding a tiger with wings?  From gleaming throne rooms to blood soaked battlefields, the tale of kings and queens, hearts and destinies; the shieldwoman who attempted to defy destiny and the swordswoman who swore to make it serve her.


Thursday, April 20, 2017

#TheWriter'sTag: Organized Mass Chaos

I love writer's tags.  Most other tags I'm not fond of, but writer's tags speak to my soul.  I believe this one originally came from Cait Paper Furious, via the fantastic penslayer Jennifer Freitag and my dragoness Mirriam.


1. WHAT GENRES, STYLES, AND TOPICS DO YOU WRITE ABOUT?

Genres:
*steeples fingers and stares at the wall meditatively*
I've tried a wide variety of genres and genre-crosses, from urban fantasy fairy tale retelling to political psycho-thriller to East Asian historical fantasy.  That said, I definitely have my favorites... and least favorites.

Favorites:
High fantasy, historical fantasy, science fantasy, historical fiction, political thrillers, military sci-fi.
Least favorites:
Contemporary Christian romance (it was a soldier story dare from a sister and I poked the unfinished mess into a corner to quietly die in shame), pretty much anything contemporary unless it involves fantasy, and anything involving too many rules I have to pay attention to during the writing process.
Genres I don't write:
the e-word, horror, paranormal.

Styles:
*blinks* 
Third person with as many POVs as I can cram in without confusing readers... too much.
Complex 'big-picture' tapestries with as many colors of the rainbow as will fit.
Ideas that make my family (and a lot of friends) scratch their heads and wonder what planet dropped me on Earth.
I don't know, man, this is a hard question.  I like to try to make people think.

Topics:
These range all over the known globe but there are a few constants:
Loyalty
Friendship
Common Sense
Power plays and their effects on people
Manipulation
Politics
People who actually use their brains


2. HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN WRITING?

I was.... seven or eight when I first picked a pencil to tell a story.  So nearing two decades, give or take.


3. WHY DO YOU WRITE?

If I tell you, you might meet a bloody death in my novel.  Are you sure you want to know?


4. WHEN IS THE BEST TIME TO WRITE?

O.o  Gosh, when isn't??????

I do most of my best writing in the afternoon when I know I have a few uninterrupted hours or late at night when inspired with maniacal fervor.


5. PARTS OF WRITING YOU LOVE VS. PARTS YOU HATE?

Love:
Creating worlds and watching them come alive
Releasing stress and internal cogitation via the written word
Writing something I know is going to make people raise their eyebrows at me
Hopefully writing something that is going to make people feel deeply on all levels

Hate:
Never having enough time to write all of the ideas that come
The length of time it takes for something I've written to become presentable
The near-constant self-doubt


6. HOW DO YOU OVERCOME WRITERS BLOCK?

Take a walk
Take a shower
Switch to writing something else for a day or two
Watch Korean dramas
Eat something sugary
Challenge Mirriam to a writing contest of some sort

If all else fails, then I bury myself in a book or Pinterest and growl at anyone who tries to un-bury me.


7. ARE YOU WORKING ON SOMETHING AT THE MOMENT?

Yes! I'm finishing up plotting for my East Asian historical fantasy novel Wings of the Tiger.  (Intro post coming on Saturday.)


8. WRITING GOALS THIS YEAR?

Begin the first draft of Wings of the Tiger
Work toward finishing the first draft of A Certain Darkness
Revise Queen Beauty and the Beasts
Write a fate worse than death for my enemies
Edit Queen Beauty and the Beasts
Make someone cry with something I wrote
Pooossibly publish or query Queen Beauty and the Beasts


Now it's your turn.  Take this tag over to your blog posthaste and answer it and then leave me a link in the comments!  (Alternatively, you can answer it /in/ the comments.)

Thursday, April 13, 2017

JUST A Villain? Seriously?


'A villain is just a victim whose story hasn't been told.'

I've seen this phrase in various places, from being splashed all over Pinterest to showing up in fairy tale retellings.  Every time I come across it, I grit my teeth and hiss.  A couple of weeks ago, I encountered it in a middle-grade fantasy I was reading.  I managed to repress the strong urge to throw the aforementioned book across the room and finish the prologue before yanking a notebook towards me to scribble the foundation of this blog post.

Why do I loathe this particular piece of writing advice/inspiration/what have you?

Simply put, because it's poppycock.  A lie.  Rubbish.

A villain is not 'just' anything, least of all 'just a victim'.  True, many villains started out as victims, and naturally, that experience shaped them drastically.  But somewhere along the way, they made choices that led them down the road to villainy.

Every victim has a choice.  They can allow their past to define them and turn them into something dark as they take revenge on others or attempt to revenge themselves on Time itself for the wrongs they have suffered.  They can choose to continue the cycle of abuse and evil and become the villain oppressing others, creating more victims.

OR

They can stand up and they can say 'no more' and do their best to move beyond their victim past, not allowing it to define them.

Is being a victim horrible?  Yes, absolutely, without a shadow of a doubt.  But just because someone was a victim doesn't mean that they will automatically become a villain.  Many heroes were victims, too.  But they made the choice to overcome that experience.  People in real life make choices every single day to overcome their past as victims and live as survivors and heroes.

It doesn't matter how misunderstood a person is because of their past, or how much pain and agony they suffered, or how warped and twisted were the people they knew.  Everyone has a choice.  Every person (or alien or whatever) chooses good or bad.  And if they consistently make the wrong choices, if they refuse to choose good when they could, that's what makes them a villain. 

Do I think there are opportunities for villains in books to have been misunderstood victims and be written as gray characters whose pain and grief drove them to inflict pain on others?  Sure.  And as a writer, reaching into that victim past enables us to guide the reader to feel sympathy or understanding for the villain, thereby making them more well-rounded (hopefully without blurring the lines of morality in the process).  But the fact that the character is a villain still comes down to choice, not their history.

"Well, fine," you say, "but what about the saying 'every villain is the hero of their own story'?  Doesn't that nullify your point?"
Absolutely not.  According to the technical definitions of hero and villain, that is an erroneous saying.  (Definitions courtesy of the New Oxford American Dictionary.)

hero: a person who is admired for or idealized for courage, outstanding achievements, or noble qualities; also, the chief male character in a book, play, or movie, who is typically identified with good qualities or choices, and with whom the reader is expected to sympathize

villain: a character whose evil actions or motives are important to the plot

A villain may be the main character of their own story, but they are not the hero.  Writing a story from the POV of the villain- or including their POV- doesn't change whether what they did was right or wrong.  Stories seen through the bad guy's eyes can be fascinating, when well written.  But one's past can never be used to excuse one's present. 

The choices of others make people victims.  A person's OWN choice makes them a villain or a hero.

Tuesday, March 28, 2017

Why Me? ~ Quote Queste March 2017

At long last, I have again written a scene for my own prompt.  Well, completed it, I should say; I started one for each month this year, just didn't finish them.


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    “Why me?”

    “Are you questioning your king?”

    “Merely his choice.”

    “Still a crime to some kings.”

    The person cloaked in lavender silk tossed her head mockingly.  “Not you.  You enjoy being questioned by competent people, which you obviously consider me to be, or you wouldn’t have chosen me.”

    “You’ve just answered your own question.”

    Noorilan rolled her eyes and sheathed the sword she had been idly examining for nicks.  “No, because you always have a reason for thinking a person is competent.  You don’t even know my real name, my king.”

    Daniar picked up an iron poker from the fire and cauterized the wound still oozing blood above his elbow, studying his newest general with quick sideways glances.  Replacing the poker, he reached for clean linen to bind up the wound but she was quicker, snatching it away from him.  The right corner of his mouth tipped up in amusement as he held out his arm to allow her better access.  Deftly, she spread salve on the ragged, roughly diagonal line and then bound it securely.

    “Did you mean your loyalty?”

    Arrested in her progress away from him by the voice that sounded as if it emanated from Vulcan, she halted and twisted back around.  “What?”

    “Did you mean it when you swore your loyalty to me?”

    For several seconds, she stared into intense but steady eyes under craggy brows, searching for the trick in the question.  “I swore a blood oath,” she answered finally.

    “Yes,” he replied, smiling now.  “And you come from a country that is possibly the only land to take it more seriously than ours.”

    Smoky blue eyes widened.  “So, you already knew I meant it.”

    Bass chuckles vibrated the air as he came toward her and reached out to clasp her shoulder.  “That is why I chose you.  I don’t need to know your real name.  Your loyalty is your name, your reputation, your record, and all that matters.  Can you defeat your sister?”

    Fire licked up her spine to dance with laughing confidence in her face.  “Of course, my king.”

    His smile widened at the emphasis on the personal pronoun.  “I want her alive.”

    “It will be done.”

    His other arm came up to press a badge into her hand.  “You are thrice welcome to the army of Kaliyev, my general.”



To join Quote Queste, visit this post!

Thursday, March 23, 2017

But, Why's All the Humor Gone??

About a year ago I started watching the show Person of Interest.  It had a great premise of the kind that I usually devour, some good characters, and began with some thought provoking questions of morality and ethics.

But, I just didn't like Reece.  Which is kind of a problem, since he's, y'know, only the main character of the show.

I struggled to really put myself into his mindset and understand him.  He didn’t intrigue me, he annoyed me.  Now, theoretically, I should have loved him.  He seems to be everything I enjoy in many characters: mysterious, effective, cryptic, scarred because of betrayal, lonely, good guy at heart who doesn't really have a reason to keep going or anything for which to fight.

But no matter how hard I tried - and I did try - I just couldn't really /like/ the guy.

It finally irritated me so much that I took a break from the show for a few months.  Then, several weeks ago, needing a distraction during my intense push to finish my urban fantasy novel, I went back to watching it.  And I figured out why he bothers me so much, and correspondingly, why I just can't like the show.


Reece lacks flair and charisma.
He delivers his lines with a deadpan expression that’s supposed to be amusing BUT ISN’T.  He lacks the charisma to make the wryness funny

He’s one-dimensional, sometimes two-dimensional.  One knows there are other sides to him but he comes across as flat because the other dimensions are only vaguely hinted at in a very cloak and dagger mysterious way that is supposed to make one intrigued but made me want to fling something at the screen.  Now, I think this might be a simple case of too much telling us that Reece has other sides and not enough showing us, but I'm not sure.  I didn't stay around long enough to find out.

The actor doesn’t facially emote very well in this role and that is VITAL in acting.  Now, I don't know this actor from anything else, and I'm NOT making comments on what kind of a person he is in real life, or bashing him in any way.  I'm just stating that in this role, he wasn't great at facially emoting- at least from what I saw.  If an actor doesn’t facially emote enough for people to be able to read their expressions, it's hard to feel connected with their character.

Reece doesn't do a good job of manipulating or inspiring people yet the show portrays his methods as working in the real world.  People have to be //connected with// to be inspired or controlled.  If he came up to me and told me I was in danger with the same cryptic, sounding-like-a-stalker comments about trusting him and following his lead that he's said to several other characters on the show, I'd either kick/punch him and run away or call the cops.

When you are making what could come across as a creepy stalker comment about how you know someone is in danger, the difference is in how you communicate it.  Make sure the other person thinks that it's because you are a secret superhero who wants to save them, not because you have access to information that invades the other person's privacy.  


There's not enough humor in the show.
The show has a great premise.  But Finch and Carter are really the only funny people on the show for the first several episodes- and Carter has comparatively few scenes during that time.

Voltaire said that a sense of humor is the only thing that keeps intelligent people from hanging themselves.  Finch delivers this - it's hilarious to see him frustrating Reece's attempts to find out more about him.  Carter's exasperation with not being able to find Reece or discover anything about him is plain amusing in a way that makes you feel sorry for her and instantly connect with her. 

Reece occasionally smiles, but he often feels like a blank canvas.  Humor is often found merely in the inflection of words.  But his inflection is rather oddball, and not in an amusing way.

For example, the phrase: 'easier said than done.'  At one point in episode six or seven there's a scene that goes like this:
Finch: 'You need to get her talking.'
Reece: 'Easier said than done.'
But instead of Reece saying: 'Easier SAID than DONE', his inflection is 'EAsier said than done'.

To use another example: several times Reece will tell someone, 'It's a long story' but his inflection is: 'IT'S a long story' as opposed to 'it's a LONG story'.


Adios, show.
Like most people, I'm a busy person with a lot of irons in the fire.  When I can be persuaded to give myself a break and use that time to sit down in front of a TV show; I expect to be entertained, amused, and given something about which to think.  Otherwise, there's not much point in watching it in the first place.  Reece consistently made me growl at the screen, roll my eyes, and want to smack him.  Whiiiiiiich... isn't really conducive to relaxing.

So I dropped the show.  There are dozens of other shows on my TBW list- and some that I'm currently watching- which give me an intriguing plot but also deliver humor, charismatic characters, intensity, and thought provoking plots.  I'd rather spend my time on them.

"But Arielle," you say, "you're just a very critical person.  Maybe you're being too harsh on the show."  It's entirely possible.  This is, after all, just my personal evaluation.  If you are curious about the show or think you want to try it, go ahead!

Disclaimer: I only watched the first third of the first season.  It may well improve in later seasons, but for myself personally, there wasn't enough of interest in this show to keep pulling me past the slow and lame sections.

Saturday, March 11, 2017

Carry Your Candle



“I don’t see myself that way.”
“I know.  We never see ourselves as others see us.”

It was late at night and I was talking to my friend Jack, who is a wonderful person and someone without whom my life would not be complete.  On this particular night we were discussing the ever-relevant subject of Life.  As we separated for bed shortly after the above interchange, I continued musing on the 'outside' view of someone- say, from a friend- vs. our personal 'inside' view. 

Most of my small group of close friends are very self aware.  We know our faults and flaws, we know what we have to do to fix them, we’re (sometimes) good at identifying the sources of our stress, we’re good at knowing what we want to change most about ourselves. 

But we rarely see ourselves as others see us.

There is a candle in every soul 

Some brightly burning, some dark and cold......
Carry your candle, run to the darkness 

Seek out the hopeless, confused and torn 

Hold out your candle for all to see it

Take your candle, and go light your world....
We are a family whose hearts are blazing 

So let's raise our candles and light up the sky....
Make us a beacon in darkest times
~ Go Light Your World - Kathy Troccoli ~

Many people don’t even realize they are candles.  This is not a bad thing (sometimes it prevents us from becoming arrogant) if there are others present to tell us what they see and to remind us to keep our flames burning; even to shield our flames through storms.  But if we refuse to believe those people when they point out the positive sides in our natures, if all we focus on is what we think we should be or what the world appreciates as opposed to what we are, then we’re snuffing our candle flame.

You don’t have to have 200 FB friends or blog followers.  You don’t have to be perpetually cheerful, to never say a negative word or have a bad day or be furious about something or have an irrational emotional reaction.  You don't have to be someone whose personality the world understands.  You don’t even have to have a decent life.  No matter who you are, where you are in life, or what your world is like, you can be a candle.

Tall, taper candles; perfumed votives; fancifully carven pillars; a simple, undecorated square: every candle has a place.  We never know when we’re going to touch someone’s life.  Sometimes it’s the ‘hi’ spoken to a random stranger.  Sometimes it’s leaving comments on blog posts or FB statuses.  It can seem like a lot of trouble to comment on everyone’s new profile pics or even to just react to a post without commenting.  Sometimes it's leaving a message just saying, ‘hey, I appreciate you’ or ‘hey, you’re a really cool person’.  Texting someone to ask how they are doing.  Tweeting an enthusiastic agreement of someone’s random Twitter status.

This is a difficult concept for me and for many others I know.  Not only do we not think we have anything worthwhile to give most people, we know people who are bright candles already and seeing the good job they are doing, we think, ‘why would WE be needed?’.

But the truth is that no one else’s candle is exactly like yours.  And the world needs every candle it can get, especially yours, with your unique personality coloring the flame.  (If you don’t believe me, go read the politics news for about ten minutes and then come back.  Or do a google search on life under a communist regime such as China, North Korea, or Vietnam.  Mmmhmm, believe me now?)

So keep your flame burning, take your candle, and go light YOUR world.

Thursday, March 2, 2017

Quote Queste: March 2017 ~ My Real Name



It's Quote Queste time again and I hope you're all ready for this one because I think it's going to be a lot of fun.  For mine, I'm imagining a scene with a king... several military officers facing him, a vacant general's position... and looming war.

My February scene is mostly done but again I didn't finish it quiiite in time (busy month).  I'll post it later this month though, after I write March's.

Thanks to everyone who participated in February's QQ!
Tom
Erudessa


Rules:
1. Take the quote below and write a short scene based on it.  It can be a scene for a story you're currently writing, one you plan on writing in the future, or you can make up characters solely for this challenge.
2.  Post your scene on your blog, with the banner from the top of my post and a link to my blog.
3. Come back to this post and leave a link to your post in the comments so the other participants and I can read your scene.
4. Have fun!


Ready?
Here's March's prompt.  (Kate, this one's for you.  Muahahaha.)


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Happy Writing!  I look forward to seeing your scenes!

Thursday, February 23, 2017

Beautiful People: February 2017 ~ Kang-mun and Belleza


It's time for Beautiful People again, hosted by the great Cait and Sky.  This Valentine's edition features the main couple from my recently completed novel: Queen Beauty and the Beasts.  Meet Kwon Kang-mun and Belleza Rivera, the Diva Duo as my friend Lauren calls them.  Instead of answering the questions the usual way, I did something a little different and answered them with snippets, because it's been a long week and I'm tired and this was an easy way to do it. :D


How and why did they meet?
Belleza had danced into his life- literally- singing and pirouetting out of a room with a broom in hand, right into his pathway as he left after another midnight session.  The vivacious sparkle of her voice and its emotional range caught his attention at once.  She had apologized for disturbing him, showing the correct respect, which was unusual in a foreigner.  The next night he had listened from hiding, recognizing an unpolished gem in her voice.  Bored and jaded as he was, the idea of teaching her roused him from his apathy and he had approached her before he had time to change his mind.


What were their first impressions of each other?
She had condensed the story; giving the correct answer without adding the details that still shimmered golden in her memory.  How for the first two weeks she had not seen Kang-mun and didn’t know who it was that tutored her, just that he was a marvelous teacher who knew music inside out.  When she did find out, the fact that he was ZODI’s lead singer didn’t impress her as much as his complete mastery of music and what he had shown her how to accomplish- taking something raw and refining it into a result that others beyond yourself would understand; which was the ultimate aim of a singer.


How would they prove their love for each other?
She knew only one way to answer it.  In two steps she was behind him and brought her arms up to slide gently around his neck.

He froze, hands falling away from the keys and his shoulders stiffening under her touch.

“I am not leaving, Angel,” she whispered tenderly.  “I am staying."  Her voice fell until it was barely even a breath in the heavy stillness of the room.  “I won’t leave you.”

He shuddered under her words and touch.  For one fleet, startling second she had a glimpse of the power one person could wield over another.  She did not understand it then, nor would she for some time, but the memory of that sensation would never leave her.

Wonderingly, as if he didn’t believe his senses, he raised long fingers to her arm, brushing it with feather-light touch and then again when she didn’t pull away.  She rested her cheek on the top of his head.  He leaned back into her slightly, just enough to feel that she was really there. 

“There might not be an answer, you know,” he said after a long moment of silence, during which he rested his hand on her arm, the touch sending tiny tingles through her.  “At least not one that you can find.”

“I don’t believe that,” she said quietly but confidently.

He made no reply and his hand fell from her arm.  Desperate to reassure him, she reached gentle fingers up and ran them down the side of his face, where the edge of the mask touched his hairline.

He caught his breath with another shudder and as her fingers slid down his jaw, something wet dropped on them.

A tear.

Instinctively she knew that it was a tear of hope.


What would be an ideal date?
“I have a request for you, Bella.”  Kang-mun motioned her to join him in the back of the elevator.  “Do you think that you could handle going out to dinner with me and Lorena and Anna?”

A shiver of startled apprehension ran up her spine, as if hearing a call to battle.  “Yes, sunbae, I can.”

His hands came up to frame her face as he looked deeply into her eyes.  “You’re sure?  It’s going to be hard, Beauty, but I think it’s going to help us.”

“How?” she questioned.  “It seems like it can only make her angrier.”

“It’s not her I’m thinking of,” he explained.  “I suspect Anna is holding out on me, that she has a plan, too, and this could force her to show her hand.”

“So that you can deal with it on your terms, not when she’s ready to spring it?"

He grinned and brushed her nose with the tip of his finger.  “Exactly.  I’ll be right next to you the whole time.  Think you can handle it?”

Battle fever surged in her veins.  “I can do it, Angel.”


Is there something they emphatically disagree on?
“Wait a minute,” Belleza piped up when he paused again.  “You can’t make me a queen in this, sunbaenim.  That’s not fair.”
  
It seemed as if every single person around them stifled a gasp; unsure of whether to look at Kang-mun or not, they settled for watching Belleza with wide eyes as she frowned at him.  Slowly he turned to look at her.  She had the distinct impression that could she have seen his eyebrows, they would be raised to their fullest reach.  “Excuse me?”
  
“Oh, I’d love the part,” she assured him.  “You’re a genius.  But it’s not fair to give me the part of a queen when everyone else is just going to be a princess.”
 
 “I’ll make you whatever I need to for the purposes of the story,” he informed her, eyes narrowing.
  
She scowled rebelliously at him.  “Your fans are going to hate you and hate me even more.”
  
“They’ll forget about it when they become absorbed in the story,” he said dismissively.
  
She could not very well put her hands on her hips while seated in an airplane seat but she did so anyway, elbows crooked forward so she wouldn’t bump into Chul-soo who sat beside her.
  
“Oppa, I would love the part and you’re the best musician ever, but if there is a queen role, it should go to Dahae-unni.”  Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Shin-woo grinning.  The plagued torment.
  
“Who precisely is writing this, you or me?” he demanded, firmly but without the anger she had


List 5 “food quirks” they know about each other. (Ex: how they take their coffee, if they’re allergic to something, etc….and feel free to mention other non-food quirks!)
“I wonder what happened to make her so evil in her soul?”  Belleza clasped her hands under her chin and stared thoughtfully at him.

“Woo-sung will tell you that evil is a disease that slowly rots anyone who consistently chooses it,” Kang-mun said and shrugged.

She looked at him and shook her head, smiling fondly.

“What?” he asked, pitching his voice lower.

“You say it as if you don’t believe it, and I know that’s a lie, sunbae.”  She leaned closer and patted his hand where it lay on the arm of the chair.  “Go ahead and try to convince the rest of the world that you have a twisted soul.  You don’t fool me.”


What’s one thing they know about each other that no one else does?
Some people possessed a core of living flame, a belief in love and goodness and truth that was so powerful it could not be other than Divine.  God might have abandoned him, but if there was anything he could do to stop it, he would give himself to preserve that sacred fire in her.

What’s one thing that they keep a secret from each other?
Kang-mun growled and everyone stepped back as the growl grew louder and fiercer.  He yanked off his pants but his anger was pushing the shift too fast to save his shirt and it gave way with a savage ripping sound.  For six blinding seconds the lawn flashed into light as bright as noonday, highlighting a dark gold lion with black mane and the snow leopard emerging from the form of a man.  The lion roared and the leopard snarled back, circling to the side.


How would their lives be different without each other?
She decided to ask the less important question first.  “Why do you look pleased when I sass Kang-mun?  I shouldn’t have done it in the airplane this morning, not in front of everyone, but why did you look pleased?  I was disrespectful.”

“Yes, you were,” he agreed, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips.  “But you make Kang-mun come alive and that’s why I like to see it.”

She tilted her head quizzically.  “What do you mean come alive?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, Kang-mun is a rather difficult person to get along with,” he said dryly.

She giggled.

Woo-sung sobered.  “He’s had it harder than any of us and he has a hard time believing in any hope.  For us sure, but not for himself, because he blames himself for what happened.  It’s a long story,” he added at her confused look.  “I’ll tell you at home sometime when we can be truly alone,” he whispered.  “You’re so vitally alive, Bella.  You don’t know how not to be.  So when you sass him, when you stir him up, you remind him to live.”  He grinned now.  “It’s a great thing.”


Where do they each see this relationship going?
“Mmm.”  Another short silence fell, broken by him asking, “What will you do when the curse is broken?  You’ve put so much energy into breaking it and figuring us out.  But what about you?"
The question startled her.  “I... I never thought about it,” she admitted in surprise.  She considered for a moment.  “I’ll go back home.  Keep singing.  I... well... I don’t really know what else.”  She shrugged and pulled the blanket closer about her.

“And Joon-tae?”

For a few seconds she wasn’t certain she had heard him correctly.  But what she could see of his face was now too casual, obviously a controlled expression instead of the natural one he had held until then.

“I honestly don’t know, oppa.  Do you... ah...” she faltered and dropped the words, finally settling for saying, “I just don’t know.”


And a random one because I like it:
His voice cut across all others.  “During the intervening time, Rosita, will you please take Yo-han into the music room and attempt to teach him how to properly waltz?  His so-called skill at that dance is an abomination, as you might remember from dancing with him before and his hybrid waltz-foxtrot-cow shuffle.”

His cousins broke into laughter, except for Yo-han, who was glaring at Shin-woo because he was laughing the hardest.

“Dad’s going to school,” Shin-woo jeered.

“Dad’s going to whip your butt at wrestling just as soon as school is done,” Yo-han retorted.

Dad had better get going or he won’t be done in time to do anything,” Kang-mun said firmly.